Visual
by Bell-L Burrell
Summary: "He was in her room... Watching her watch him."
1. Chapter 1

He was in her room. He looked completely comfortable, unruffled, leaning against her bed. Watching her watch him.

The air changed, becoming charged. Her breathing picked up as he shifted, bringing one hand up behind his head. His hand fisted in the collar of the black tee he was wearing.

Slowly, inch by inch, the shirt came up, showing off a long, pale torso. Her eyes widened, pupils blown wide. Her bottom lip, previously caught between her teeth, came loose as her lips parted. Her tongue darted out to wet them as his skin came into view.

Flat brown nipples rested in the center of well-defined pecs. His stomach was muscular, but no overly so. She could just make out the lightly defined ridges of muscle in the dim light of her lamp, and she wanted to touch. His skin looked smooth, highlighted by a small patch of dark hair just under his navel, leading into the waistband of his low-slung jeans.

Just visible in the dark wash of his jeans was a sizeable bulge. She swallowed, fee ling a stirring in the pit of her stomach; something warm and dark unfurling, awakening in her.

Her eyes roamed, taking in the long, dark blond hair; the blue eyes that were narrowed and dark; the parted lips. Her gaze caressed the broad shoulders, the subtly muscled arms, the large, strong-looking hands and long fingers.

They were still on opposite sides of the room. He cleared his throat, the sound loud in the otherwise silent room. It startled her.

"You can come closer," he told her. His voice was low, smooth. Controlled. "I won't bite." His lips quirked upwards.

Hesitantly, she took one small step. Then another. Suddenly, she was right in front of him. Close enough to touch. So she did.

Her hand reached out, shaking ever so slightly, until her palm rested on those warm, firm abs. His hands came up, resting on her hips, fisting lightly in the fabric of her shirt.

She bit her bottom lip again as she explored the muscles of his torso. Her eyes strolled up his torso, his chest, past his chin and lips, until they locked with his. Rich, warm brown meeting deep, endless blue. His lips parted, tongue darting out for a brief moment. Then he spoke.

"You can go lower, if you want."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow. I am blown away by the fact that y'all like this. Chapter 1 was something that I wrote a few years ago as a challenge from a friend. It was based on something that actually happened in my life. I wasn't planning on writing a follow up, but a friend of mine practically _demanded_ that I continue the story. So, here ya go.**

**DISCLAIMER: i don't need to tell y'all that I don't own Twilight.**

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Heat. That was the first thing that registered in her mind. The heat that radiated from his body.

Her fingers traced the definition of his stomach muscles, feeling the smoothness of his skin. He watched her, his chest heaving with his labored breathing. He couldn't handle it, the feeling of her small hands on his body, yet not where he wanted them to be.

His hand- large, rough, and warm- covered hers on his stomach, slowly guiding her touch to the place where he wanted it most. She curled her hand around his obvious arousal, stroking somewhat clumsily over his jeans. In her mind, she couldn't help thinking how large it felt in her hand.

His breath came in pants now. He was unable to control it. She was so innocent , but seemed so eager to explore. He admired the wideness of her big brown eyes and the way her breathing had quickened. Her plump bottom lip was caught between her teeth while her eyes were riveted to what she was doing.

Her back was against something hard. She had no idea when it had happened, but he had backed her up until she was pinned between the closet door and his big, warm body. He towered above her, especially this close.

Her hand kept stroking him as her eyes looked up. He couldn't tell, but he though she seemed... uncertain. Her free hand came up, tugging at his belt. He nodded, understanding that she was asking for permission to see him. All of him.

Both of her hands went to his belt, unbuckling it and leaving it hanging open. Slowly, almost apprehensively, she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down his legs along with his boxer shorts. When he was finally naked, all she could do was stare. She had nothing to compare it to, but he seemed... large. He was long and thick, the crown a flushed pink color. She reached out, running her index finger along the length of him, feeling how soft the skin was and watching as it bobbed under her attention. A single bead of moisture dripped from the tip of it.

He watched her explore, exhaling forcefully and closing his eyes as her tiny, warm hand closed around him. He couldn't stop his hips from flexing, driving him further into her palm. For a long moment, she stroked him from base to tip.

"I want to taste it," she whispered shyly, looking up at him through her lashes.

"Are you sure? You don't have to," he told her, his voice a rough whisper.

"I want to," she insisted. He nodded, giving in.

Suddenly, all he knew was wet heat as she bent over and took him in her mouth. His breath left him in a whoosh, and he braced his hand on the closet door above her head to keep himself from falling over. His legs felt a bit rubbery.

She wasn't experienced. At all. This was her first time doing anything like this. But what she lacked in experience she made up in enthusiasm.

He was losing his composure quickly. He knew she wasn't experienced, but it honestly didn t matter. Experience or no, she was doing a phenomenal job of making him lose his mind. His ties were curling in his shoes, and it was quickly becoming painful. He tried to relax them, but it wouldn't happen. All he could focus on was her hot, wet mouth on him.

His release hit him out of nowhere. He was barely able to warn her before he was shooting down her throat in long streams. Impressively, she swallowed all of it. He staggered back, panting, and slumped against the edge of her bed. Holy shit.

She straightened up, watching him, panting. That had been… fun. She hadn't expected to enjoy that as much as she did, but now all she could think about was when she could do it again.

Slowly, his brain reassembled itself and he could think clearly. After pulling up his pants, he strolled back over to her and pulled her into his arms, against his chest.

"Thank you," he murmured into her hair.

She nodded, and pulled away slightly, just enough that she could look up at him.

"We should do that again sometime," she whispered boldly.

He threw back his head and laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Welcome back! Thanks to anyone who is reading this little story of mine. It's been a blast to write. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing ****_Twilight. _****I just like playing with the** **characters.**

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The room was dark. Not that it mattered, since her eyes were closed anyway. His lips were on here, moving expertly, his tongue darting out occasionally to tease her bottom lip before slipping in her open mouth.

His hand glided down her body, lightly brushing against the side of her breast. She broke the kids to moan, her head pressing into the pillow. Undeterred, his lips moved south, kissing and sucking along her neck and collarbone.

Skin to skin. His hand had slid under the tank top she was wearing and his thumb was stroking the soft, smooth skin of her stomach.

"I want to touch you," he said. His voice was a low, seductive whisper.

Those words, in that voice, had her blood heating and her muscled tightening. Her hips arched upward, her pelvis grazing against his, nestled between her thighs. That earned her a pained-sounding groan of her name.

"Please," he begged, his teeth nipping at the skin of her neck. He pulled back to look at her. "Please let me touch you."

There was just enough light from the street lamp outside her window streaming in that she could see his face. His mouth was open, breath coming out in pants, and his eyes were half closed, heavy-lidded with desire. She could feel his hand, the one not under her shirt, rhythmically fisting the fabric of her shirt.

"Yes, please," she murmured.

The next thing she knew, his hands were lifting her shirt, raising it until it was bunched under her breasts.

His hands, large and rough from manual labor, were mapping the exposed skin while his eyes followed every movement. Suddenly he ducked his head, placing a relatively chaste kiss on her sternum. The feeling of his lips on her skin had her gasping, hips arching again.

"Ah!"

His hands slid down, fingers curling into the waistband of her shorts. Continuing to kiss her stomach, he pulled her shorts down to her knees before detaching his mouth from her skin and looking at her.

"Is this okay?" He had to make sure before he continued. He absolutely refused to have her regret anything they did together.

"Yes," she breathed. "Please don't stop."

And he didn't. He pulled her shorts the rest of the way down, letting her kick them off. His hand slid down the middle of her torso, onto her pelvis over her panties. He watched his hand cup her mound, feeling how warm she was even through the layer of cotton. Again, her hips arched sharply, pushing herself more firmly into his palm. Her head pushed back, a breathy moan leaving her mouth.

"Beautiful," he breathed quietly.


End file.
